Chapter 2

I kept my head lowered as tears streamed down my face.

Seeing that, Patricia gave my hand a squeeze and said, "If you'd just done as you were told, I wouldn't have had to push you this far. Fine. You don't have to get on your knees and beg. Just do as you're told, and your grandma will be fine."

I dug my nails into my palms. As everyone looked on with contempt, I managed a shaky "Okay".

…

The next day was Sunday, the day Patricia and I were supposed to visit Grandma. But this time, she picked up her coat and a bag of supplements that seemed oddly out of place.

She frowned at her watch. "Marvin has a follow-up appointment today. I can't go with you."

I furrowed my brow, my voice unsteady as I said, "Patricia, Grandma's been waiting three months to see you. She called me dozens of times yesterday, just hoping you'd—"

Before I could finish, the door slammed shut in my face.

…

Grandma had become so thin that she was almost unrecognizable. She was hooked up to tubes all over, and she could barely manage more than a word at a time.

Even so, she found the strength to take my hand and look behind me, hopeful.

"Brad… Patricia didn't come? Did you two fight? Am I… becoming a burden to you?"

Seeing the hesitation in Grandma's eyes, I fought back tears and shook my head again and again.

Just then, my phone chimed with a notification. Patricia had just posted two photos on Instagram.

The first showed her hand clasped in Marvin's, wearing a wedding ring that matched mine. The second was a sonogram.

Her caption read, "Starting a family with the love of my life. I've never been happier."

Gordon was the first to congratulate them. He commented, "True love always wins. We'll never let that homewrecker steal Marvin's place."

Amelia was quick to join in. She wrote, "I've never liked him. His mother was a homewrecker, and now his grandmother's just a sickly old woman. He still thinks he's good enough to be Patricia's husband. Doesn't he realize he's not even in her league?"

Their words cut deep, each one twisting the knife a little further.

Patricia had made the post visible to everyone. Before long, relatives who had no idea what was really going on began calling Grandma.

"What's gotten into Bradley? Has he turned out just like his mother?" they asked.

My blood ran cold at once.

Before Grandma could make out what was being said, I snatched the phone from her. I held it together long enough to calm her down, then rushed to the stairwell and called Patricia.

"Patricia, take down that post! Someone just called Grandma and accused me of being the other man! She's too sick to handle this kind of stress. Are you trying to kill her?"

Patricia paused, then softened her voice. "I'm sorry, Brad. Marvin wanted everyone to know he was my husband. I had to put his mind at ease."

The moment she finished speaking, a harsh banging came through the phone.

Then, Marvin spoke, sounding thoroughly pleased. "You're right, Pat. The old house Bradley's mom left behind really is a nice place. It's a shame you two made it your home. It'd be much better for me to recover here."

In an instant, my mind went blank, and I started shaking uncontrollably.

"Patricia, did you really let Marvin take over my mother's house? Do you realize that's the last thing she left me?"

Patricia was silent for a moment, then sighed impatiently. "Brad, don't start. The spiritual adviser said the house had healing energy. It's the perfect place for Marvin to recover. I'll buy you a better house later."

I couldn't listen to another word of her excuses. I hung up and rushed back to the house.

But it was too late. The crabapple tree Mom and I had planted in the yard had been cut down and hacked to pieces. The swing she'd put up for me had been torn down and left in a heap on the ground.

The master bedroom I'd painstakingly designed for Patricia and me was now littered with their clothes. Even the flooring, couch, and standing lamp I'd picked out seemed tainted by what they'd done together.

The silver pendant Patricia and I had received at church after three months of praying for my mother now hung around Marvin's neck.

Whatever restraint I'd managed to maintain finally gave way. I snatched up everything within reach and started hurling it at them.

"Get out! Both of you, get the hell out of my house! We're done, Patricia. I want nothing more to do with you!"